Page 13 of Crimson Vows

He shakes his head. “Oh, absolutely not.”

A smile forms. “Are you ready for this?”

“Very,” he affirms, his voice bold. He’s about to learn that in this room, I’m queen, and he’s willingly stepped into my kingdom. This queen is all about being worshipped.

His muscles tense under my touch, coiled strength waiting to be unleashed. He watches me, a predator entranced by the dance of his equal. His chest rises and falls in a rhythm that beckons me to sync. I stand back enough to let him see me, really see me.

“Jesus, Gia...” Marco’s voice is a ragged whisper. His control slips as desire edges out the caution he started the night with.

“Like what you see?” I taunt, my confidence a flame drawing him in.

I step into him, close enough to feel his breath, heavy and laden with want. His hands find the small of my back, tracing upward, igniting a trail of heat that pools deep within me. He’s exploring, searching, claiming. My skin tingles under his touch, each caress stoking the fire in my belly.

“Marco,” I breathe out, my voice thick with desire.

His fingers dance along my ribs teasingly. The anticipation of his touch is maddening and thrilling. His hands cup my cheeks, thumbs brushing over my jaw as he pulls me closer. Our breaths mingle in a silent conversation of need. His eyes, dark with passion, don’t leave mine, even as his hands continue their journey.

“Show me,” he murmurs, a command wrapped in velvet.

Nodding, I take his hand, leading him toward the sex swing. It’s an invitation, a dare, a promise. I can feel his gaze on my naked body as I guide him to the seat of the swing.

“Wait, I thought you were in the swing,” he interjects apprehensively.

“Oh, we’ll get there,” I assure him. “But you first, so I can show you what I like.” I hide my surprise when he follows my commands, and with steady hands, I secure the restraints around his wrists, ensuring his safety and asserting my control.

With his arms strapped in, I make quick work of unbuttoning his pants and sliding them to the ground, followed by his boxer briefs. He steps out of them, kicking the garments to the side, and I marvel at his cock, which already stands at full attention, eager to explore everything I have in store for the evening.

“Slide your legs through these loops and then hop onto the strap,” I instruct, motioning toward the broader piece of padded fabric.

He laughs and explains he has never done anything like this. I make clear that he is then in for a treat as he eagerly obeys. I can tell a part of him wants to give me authority over him. He lifts himself onto the swing, his eyes never leaving mine.

He’s suspended now, a mighty man at my mercy. I step back, surveying my work. Excitement courses through me, potent and wild. What I am not telling Marco is that I have never had a man play the role I have asked him to play tonight. I have always been in the swing, but to be handed this power over someone like him is so intoxicating, a wetness gathers between my thighs.

“Trust me,” I whisper.

His nod is all the affirmation I need.

I step around Marco, taking in the sight of him, vulnerable yet trusting. My fingertips graze his skin, tracing the lines of muscles. I relish in the shiver I see run through him. His breath catches as I move with purpose, my confidence growing with each hitch of his heartbeat.

“Let go,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead, anointing him for the ritual we’re about to perform. He nods, the tension easing from his shoulders, surrendering to the ebb and flow of sensation I’m orchestrating.

With each movement, the swing responds, a dance of leather and steel cradling his body. I watch him, suspended and open, a canvas for our shared desires.

I move into him, and my lips meet him, a soft, gentle touch, tasting the lust that fills his mouth. I break the kiss, trailing my fingers down his chest, over his rock-hard abs, and across the sensitive skin below.

“Now let’s see what you have to offer,” I whisper seductively, my eyes fixed on his.

Marco’s eyes blaze with desire as he watches my every movement, eager for more. His scent fills the air, a dangerous cocktail of man and desire, and it only makes me hungrier for him.

I trace my fingers along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, watching as his body trembles with anticipation. I spread his legs apart even more, revealing the throbbing erection that has been waiting for me all night.

My fingers brush against his sensitive skin, just enough to keep him on the edge of control. He gasps, bucking his hips in response.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

I know exactly what he wants, and I won’t disappoint him. I take his cock in my hand, gently stroking it as I lean in, my breath ghosting against his flesh.

His eyes flutter closed, his breath hitches, and Marco lets out a low groan. Heat radiates from him, and even though my body craves his touch, I can’t resist the temptation to prolong his anticipation.

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